The Matlock Blog

Please place all metal objects and your dignity in the tub...

Damn terrorists.  I can't even go to the grocery store without having to go through a metal detector.  There is increased security practically everywhere.  Of course, in many instances it's necessary.  There are many places that, for whatever reason, require increased security and that security often comes in the way of a metal detector.  No....my grocery store is not one of them.  Yet.

But one such place is your friendly Tim Curry Justice Center.  I'm told It’s a place filled with con men, crooks and killers.  So, I suppose, it's no surprise that in order to enter the court house, you must wait in line, disrobe, and successfully pass through a metal detector.  Well, at least some people do.

If you're someone charged with a crime, I suppose it's reasonable to subject you to increased security checks.  I'm not begrudging anyone that.  But what if you're just someone offering some moral support for your friend that has to go to court for a first-time petty theft case?  Trying to help your friend when she's no idea what to do or what to expect?  Are you a security risk?  Apparently.

What if you're a lawyer?  What if, day in and day out, you work in the court house?  Are you a security risk then?  Should you be subjected to security?  

What if you work in an office filing papers all day?  Does that job require you to be subjected to security every time you walk into the court house?  

Well, the answer is yes.  And no.

If you watch the entrances at the court house you will see that most people are herded through the security points.  However, not if you work in the court house.  Well, let me rephrase that.  Not if you work in the court house and also work for Tarrant County.

You're a lawyer that works in the court house every day.  If you're a prosecutor, you breeze right past security.  If you're a defense attorney, you must go through security.  Actually, if you're any other attorney, you must pass through security.

If you work in the clerk's office filing papers all day, you breeze right past security.  If you're just there to help a friend.  Or look something up.  Or watch a trial.  Or pay your cousin's court fees.  You must endure security.

Why is that?  Why are you deemed less of a person than a county employee?

Apparently, by the mere fact that you work for Tarrant County, you are somehow immune from ever being a security risk.  And truthfully, I have no idea how that is.  Is it possible that Tarrant County has the single best hiring process in the universe that they are able to foresee their employees will never, ever be a security risk?  Or is it just possible that the powers that be in Tarrant County don't feel their employees should be subjected to the routine of the common person?  

God forbid the almighty Tom Wilder, District Clerk have an employee subjected to such an insulting procedure.  What would his friends say?

Why is it that a person that works in the clerk's office or the D.A.'s office is held to a lower standard than you?  Or me?  Or anyone else that wants to go to the court house?

Of course, I don't hold it against those that work in the clerk's office or the D.A.'s office for being able to breeze through.  Nor am I saying they somehow indeed are security risks.  I'm just saying...

It's been said, the business of the courts is the business of the people.  That may still be true, but only if the people are willing to pass through security to see it.  

But what the hell do I know?

Show Me The Money!!!

It's really not about the money.  Never has been.  But, damn.  Really?

I'm quite certain there will be many that will read this and conclude it's just another attorney complaining about money.  But that's not what this is about.  It's about respect.  Respect for the system above all else.

I maintain a firm belief that if you are a criminal defense attorney (at least one that can hold their own) you owe it to the public at large to accept court-appointed clients.  I have always thought this.  I always will.  I think it's just a responsibility we owe to the public.

I learned from one of the best in Texas, the great Tom Morgan of Midland.  He had this set of rules that he gave me when I first began working for him.  Rule Number 3?  "Treat all clients the same, whether retained or court-appointed."  That meant not only in court, but one-on-one as well.  They were clients.  You owed them your absolute best.  Every day.  End of story.

Consequently, I've always taken that same approach with all clients, whether big-time retained clients or clients just caught up in the system that need someone to fill out the paperwork to get them time-served and go home to their family.  Or their job.  Or anywhere but Tarrant County Jail.  I've never begrudged anyone for not being able to afford an attorney.  Or being in a bind.  Or.....well, who cares?  It's a responsibilty we share.  At least I think that way.

I handle all court-appointed cases but First Degree Felony cases and Capital Murder cases.  Not because I couldn't, but because I think those types of cases tend to be game-changers, in the sense that they take up a tremendous amount of time and energy, and quite frankly, I'm not sure I would be the best in those situations.  They are often no-win situations, or try-the-case-because-you-don't-have-a-choice situations.  I have no problem with these cases, but I simply choose not to accept appointed cases like this.  No judgment.

However, as with anyone that accepts other types of court-appointed cases, I receive the proverbial try-or-go-home case.  A rather simple case that, because of my client's criminal history is repped up to a third or second degree felony.  Or worse yet, a rather simple third degree felony that, because of my client's criminal past, is enhanced to Habitual Offender status:  25 to 99 years, or life.  This is not a good situation.  For either of us.

These cases, while on their face appear to be rather simple, contain the extra factor of a potential life sentence.  It doesn't matter who you are or how much time you've done in the Texas prison system, if you're staring a potential life sentence in the face just like a bull you just got bucked off of after a mere 3.7 seconds, you're thinking the same thing; survival.  In that situation, it can be a hard thing to attain.  

Anyone in the system long enough to get a Habitual Offender notice on their indictment knows what's up.  They know the game, and they know the rules.  In other words, this ain't their first rodeo.

These kind of cases can be tough to deal with.  It's not unusual for a prosecutor to try to "cut a deal" by offering something less than 25.  Years.  25 years.  Like, say.....15.  Winner, winner, chicken dinner.  

I've never pled anyone to anything close to 20 years.  Ever.  I'm not a pansy-ass attorney that couldn't find the courthouse with a map, compass, and Google Maps.  I don't plead clients just to get their mother's/ girlfriend's/ father's money and then be done with it.  But then again, I'm not so clever as to have a phone number that is 1-800-DISMISS.  What an assclown....

So, with that mentality, I find it necessary to try cases.  My clients want to try them.  What else matters?

But sometimes, in the natural order of things, cases that are planned to be tried, are in fact resolved by plea aggreement.  An offer of 25 years TDC turns into an 8 year offer.  Then it becomes a simple cost-benefit analysis.  What do you gain?  What do you lose?  It's hard to pass up on an 8 year offer when you were facing the possiblity of life in prison.  But that doesn't come without effort.

Preparing for a trial is the unseen aspect of trial work.  They say for every hour you expect to be in trial, you can expect to prepare for three hours.  It's tedious.  Its's writing the play before it's performed.  It ain't easy.

But sometimes, that kind of effort, as well as knowing that perhaps you can lay seige on the prosecutor, might work a little miracle.  That 25 year offer evaporates into an 8 year offer.  Truthfully?  It's what the case was worth probably.  

But once that case is closed, we must submit a bill.  The bill to the court that shows how many times we appeared in court and how many "out-of-court" hours we spent preparing the case.

I'll be honest.  I bet I leave hour upon hour on the table.  I rarely ever put down the true number of hours I've spent on a case.  I like to be thorough.  I like ducks, and I like them in a row.  Whatever the issue, I like to be prepared.  That takes time.  But I don't always list that time.  It's a service....until it isn't

Recently, I represented a client charged with a State Jail Theft, enhanced to a Second Degree Felony (2-20 years TDC) and a Third Degree Felony with a Habitual Offender Notice (25-99, or life).   Yep.....living the dream....

So natuarally, this case didn't resolve itself quickly.  It took 9 court appearance, including three appearances on the court's trial docket.  As anyone not named assclown knows, preparing for trial takes time.  And effort.  And a decent-sized sack.

In the end, sometimes preparing for trial means securing a better deal for a client than they might otherwise get.  It's part of the game.  But it's necessary.

Despite this kind of effort, and dedication, and obliviousness to the nonsense that encompasses all court-appointed cases, I believe my client received the very best representation he could have received.  His two cases were resolved.  The steadfast offer of 25 years TDC was reduced to 8 years.  I don't know what kind of future that will afford my client, but at least he has a future to look forward to.

Nine court appearances, and hours of out-of-court-time spent preparing netted me what?  $1600.  Seriously.  $1600........American dollars.  Everyone has a "wouldn't-get-out-of-bed-amount".  And don't get me wrong, $1600 is a lot of money, I guess, but I'm pretty sure that comes to about $114 per activilty.  Not per hour.  Per activity.  Court appearances.  Out-of-court preparation.  Doesn't matter.  Really?  I didn't go to ITT Tech.  

Again, it's really not about the money.  It's just respect.  If courts are going to constantly complain that attorneys don't respect the court's time in handling cases, I think they should look at their own glass houses before they pick up that stone.

At the end of the day, I suppose it can be written off as the proverbial cost of doing business.  I prepped a case for trial in an effort to obtain either a not guilty verdict or a better result than the firm 25 year offer.  For my troubles, I received $1600.  I suppose it's better than nothing.

With that kind of mentality for paying attorneys, I guess I'll grab this round of drinks.  Oh wait, that money's already gone.  

Just take care of the tip.....if the court paid you enough, that is.

But what the hell do I know?

 

When did you stop beating your wife?

Domestic violence is bad.  It is.  I'm not sure you'll find anyone that condones it.  But in many respects, this is true with any criminal activity.  But like its cousin, DWI, Domestic Violence is often a politically-charged crime.  It plays well in the media.  It's one of those crimes that can be played out as a "it can happen to anyone" crime.  

Domestic violence is such a "big deal" that there is actually a misdemeanor court in Tarrant County devoted solely to handling domestic violence assaults and similar crimes.  County Criminal Court Number 5, Judge Jamie Cummings, presiding.  I love that court.  I hate that court.

I will admit that domestic violence cases are somewhat unique in the sense that, for a number of reasons, there are more recantations in a domestic violence case than any other.  Too often, the alleged victim decides that it didn't happen.  Whether it be because she realizes her boyfriend is going to jail for real, that a conviction for her husband could ruin the family, or the acknowledgment that she was really just trying to get him in trouble and realizes how big of a deal it is, there isn't a day that goes by where a domestic violence "victim" says it didn't happen.

Of course, from the defense perspective, this can be great.  I would say seventy percent of my practice is victim-less anyway, so if I can have an honest-to-goodness victim say it didn't happen, why would I complain?  Go ahead, madam prosecutor, call the "victim" to the stand.  This should be fun.  And I'm all about fun.

I have more cases set for trial in this one court than any other four courts combined.  Why?  It's not because I have more triable cases than the rest, although strangely this is a lot of it.  But rather it's that I have fewer options to me but to put the State to its burden and go to trial.  

Granted, deferred adjudication is available for domestic violence cases.  This is unlike DWIs, which go to trial for many of the same reasons.  But in recent years, domestic violence cases have become weighed down by so many collateral consequences that pleading to deferred is of no significant value.  Sure, you don't get "convicted" in the strictest sense of the term, but you still have to deal with a number of collateral consequences associated with a conviction.

Sure, I do like to try cases, but sometimes cases should be resolved some other way.  Of course every defense attorney would like to get their cases dismissed, just like every prosecutor would probably like to get a conviction for every case.  The problem is we don't start from the same place.

"We don't dismiss."  I've heard this mantra all too often associated with domestic violence cases.  The truth is, the good prosecutors who apparently have personally offended someone high up in the D.A.'s office to be assigned to the "Love Court" in the first place will dismiss cases they know to be "dogs."  I applaud them for that.  It's just knowing what your case is worth and resolving it.  They are good prosecutors.  And there is always the prosecutor who will finally dismiss a case after it has languished for almost year when they know it's a "dog" and are only holding off in hopes the defense will cave to a plea.

But it's the zealot that causes the problems.  Those prosecutors that make the argument that "it happened in front of the kids" or "it could have been a lot worse" that become the problem. 

First of all, if "it" didn't happen, as relayed to you by your "victim"  in her statement saying she only wanted to get him in trouble, then "it" didn't happen in front of the kids.  See how that works?  I think there is a freshman year logic class you can enroll in to get that.

Secondly, if you really think the case should have been a felony, why don't you, as the prosecutor, charge it as such.  There is no more ridiculous argument from a prosecutor, the person who decides how a case is filed, than to say it could/ should have been a felony.  If it's a felony, file it as such.  If not, shut up.

The problem is that all too often one of the trappings of being a misdemeanor prosecutor, believing that if it's in the police report it must be true, is exacerbated in a domestic violence case.  It almost seems with some prosecutors that they hold out no possibility for another side of the story.  It's funny, kind of.  It's also sad.

I don't really know what the source of the problem is.  I know that Court 5 is swamped with cases.  They have tried a number of things to relieve the pressure of an overloaded docket over the last several years, but it only seems to be getting worse.  

I don't know if it is an internal policy of the D.A.'s office, a directive of those "senior" felony prosecutors that oversee the misdemeanor prosecutors, or just dumb luck that causes the problems in this court.  But there has to be something.

There is a reason why prosecutors in Court 5 lose more trials (a very well-respected defense attorney told me the other day it's between 2 out of every 3 and 3 out of every 4 trials).  I wonder if it has to do with not getting value from your case?  I can't imagine the prosecutors in this court are not any good.  The ones I deal with are very good.  Of course one comes to mind that may be the exception.  But she hates me anyway.  I'll just have to be brave about that.

Granted, I am probably public enemy number one in the D.A.'s office, or at least with those in Court 5 over the last year and a half.  But it's never personal with me.  It's a job.  They think I am screwing with them because I set so many cases for trial, or that I don't negotiate with them to resolve it.  It's not.  It's valuing my cards.  My client tells me he didn't do it and there is a witness who can substantiate that.  What would I do but set it for trial?

The problem with this court seems that there are too many prosecutors being held to an unreasonable expectation by their superiors.  Those that do the day-to-day grunt work of handling these cases can value them pretty well (although there is the exception, and you know who you are).  It's just that their hands are tied.  

But what the hell do I know?